What do you mean I'm a cultivator?-Chapter 44

Cheng returned to the sect just as the first light of dawn crested over the mountains.

The familiar sight of the towering gates and the movements of fellow disciples brought a sense of normalcy back into his routine.

He moved with purpose, delivering the horned rabbits and Razorwolf corpses, and with his task mission, Cheng wasted no time slipping back into his daily schedule.

Mornings were dedicated to menial labor. The sweeping courtyards, chopping wood, and fetching water, among other things.

It was dull, repetitive work, but it had become second nature by now.

Besides, it gave him ample opportunity to refine his Qi control in subtle ways. He focused on efficiency, strengthening his body without expending unnecessary energy. The small exercises, the mindful exertion, all contributed to his cultivation, however incrementally.

After the labor came his time at the Tower of Records.

It truly was a vast library of knowledge, filled with ancient scrolls and books, some so old that even touching them felt like they might crumble. He spent hours buried in texts, seeking answers about the bandages that had preserved the corpses so well.

If he could somehow use them when the time came to break in the foundation establishment, it might provide a better result than what he would expect without them.

As he had learned from scraps of information, Foundation establishment was largely different than Qi condensation.

He hadn't learned much, as the information was tightly concealed behind purchases like cultivation manuals, but as far as he knew, it was a race against time somehow. As to the exact specifics, hopefully his master could enlighten him, lest he needed to slave away for contribution points.

His search led him through various texts, revealing a fundamental principle, he already understood, for the most part.

Certain materials, when inscribed with the right arrays, could act as Qi seals.

The bandages likely contained traces of spiritual ink infused with a weak but consistent gathering formation.

This array drew in ambient Qi, preventing the dissipation of a creature’s natural essence after death. Perhaps if the inscriptions were powerful enough, it would even empower the corpse.

It was a fascinating concept, one that sparked numerous ideas in his mind. Could this principle be applied elsewhere? Could Qi be stored, even amplified, using the right inscriptions?

Of course it would. Otherwise, array masters would have no place in cultivation.

The question was how to use such things to his own benefit.

Afternoons were spent under the watchful eye of the elderly craftsman. Master Liu was a strict teacher, his patience as weathered as the wood he carved. Yet despite his gruff demeanor, his skill in forging and woodworking was undeniable.

Cheng had learned much from him. How to shape metal with precision, how to carve wood in a way that enhances its natural properties.

“Master. Would it be possible to tell me what foundation establishment is?” Cheng spoke one evening, his silver eyes staring at master Liu.

The old man’s eyes, clouded yet piercing, regarded him in silence. Then, with an exhale as soft as the evening wind, he replied.

“Seeking knowledge is a virtue, but understanding is another matter.”

Cheng frowned slightly but held his tongue, waiting for his master to elaborate.

"Those scheming bastards would probably annoy me to no end if they knew about this. But I say fuck them." Master Liu scoffed.

His master’s gnarled fingers traced the rim of a porcelain cup before he spoke again.

“Foundation Establishment is not merely a step. It is a threshold. A disciple may know the path, but walking it is their own burden to bear. They say cultivation begins when one gathers and condenses their Qi in their dantian.

I believe cultivation starts in the foundation establishment realm.”

Cheng’s fingers curled into the hilt of the sword he was carving.

"I see. Then how. How can I walk through that barrier, master?" Cheng spoke, his gaze drifting to the sword he was holding.

The old man let out a quiet chuckle, one that carried both amusement and pity.

“There are many methods, likely hundreds if not thousands of cultivation manuals in this world. Yet none are exactly the same. What works for one may spell ruin for another. It is not merely about an accumulation of Qi, but transformation.”

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Cheng’s lips pressed together. He knew better than to press for a direct answer. His master had never been one to simply hand out wisdom without reason. Well, he did teach them, but he practically had to figure things out himself, with minimal guidance.

A moment later, the old man reached within the folds of his robe and retrieved a small book. Without another word, he placed it on the table between them, fingers resting upon it briefly before withdrawing.

Cheng’s eyes flickered toward the book. It was simple, unadorned, and without a title. Something about its plainness made it all the more significant.

His master finally met his gaze, his tone softer than before.

“Some things must be learned through experience, and some paths must be walked alone. If you really are my disciple, then learn from this. And when you do, cross what I could never.”

Cheng bowed deeply, accepting the words and the gift in silence.

Another gift from his master. With careful hands, he took the book and tucked it within his robes.

As he departed, the weight of the book felt heavier than its size suggested. But that was probably just the significance of it weighing him down. The implication of his master’s gesture was not lost on him.

The sect was rigid in its rules. Foundation Establishment techniques were not freely given in the outer sect. This book, then, was something different. Something personal.

Returning to his small cabin in the outer sect, he closed the door behind him, barring the outside world. The single candle flickered, casting long shadows across the humble space. Cheng did not truly need it, as his eyes were strong enough to see from the faint moonlight entering, but it added a nice vibe. It fit. And so, he lit it.

Jiang Cheng settled onto the straw mat, holding the book before him.

His fingers brushed against its worn cover. No title, no markings. A gift given in secrecy. He almost wanted to laugh. Here, he thought that he'd have to spend years gathering Contribution points to get the chance to purchase a good cultivation manual, and yet his master handed one to him. If what the book contained was one of course.

With a steady breath, Cheng prepared himself to uncover what lay within.

As he opened the book, the scent of aged parchment drifted up to him. The ink, though faded in some places, remained legible. His master’s handwriting was precise, each stroke deliberate, yet without excessive flourish.

Seems like he wrote this in his earlier years. Perhaps he too, should write a book eventually.

The first line alone made Cheng pause.

"Foundation Establishment is not a realm of growth, but one of rebirth. Transformation. Whatever you wish to call it.

To step into it is to die as a mortal and be reborn as something greater. Or to fail and return to nothing."

His grip on the book tightened. Not a simple breakthrough, but a transformation. The wording made it clear. Failure was absolute. A titanic setback. That was worrying.

He continued reading.

At the peak of Qi Condensation, a cultivator’s dantian is full to its absolute limit with gaseous Qi. Of course, this peak was referring to the standard fifteenth stage, but two stages above such existed. And as Cheng read, he understood why they were technically different.

These were not required to progress. But reaching them would undoubtedly strengthen one's foundation.

"Qi condensation is merely accumulation, not true cultivation. To step into Foundation Establishment, one had to compress and refine this Qi, changing its very nature."

It was like tempering metal. Raw ore alone could not form a sword. It had to be melted, shaped, purified, and reforged. In this case, Qi had to be condensed from its formless, gaseous state into something denser, purer. liquid stage Qi.

This was where most failed.

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"The moment the transformation began, the body rejected it. Or rather, a better word for it is that it could simply not contain it." Cheng mumbled as he read, his fingers tracing the words.

The cultivator's flesh, bones, everything. None were naturally meant to contain such pure and dense energy. Without the proper guidance, the Qi would dissipate, and with it, all of one’s cultivation would be lost, returning to the first stage of Qi condensation.

The book likened it to a dam breaking. Once the liquid Qi dispersed, the dantian would be emptied completely, rendering the cultivator weaker than even a common mortal, unless they once again started gathering Qi, as their body would be struggling without the peak stage Qi that was previously contained in one's dantian.

Cheng exhaled slowly. No wonder the sect charged contribution points for Foundation Establishment manuals. If someone attempted it blindly, they were more likely to cripple themselves than succeed.

Then again, it was likely not that. Perhaps they just wanted such information not to be accessible to those lacking talent, not to even reach peak Qi condensation.

Knowledge was power after all. But that made Jiang Cheng wonder just how many techniques were lost to time, either from greed or unwillingness to pass them down.

He flipped the page.

"Time is your greatest enemy. The longer it takes to integrate Liquid Qi into the body, the greater the risk of losing it. This is why external resources matter. Pills to replenish Qi in the body, arrays to stabilize the body and lock the dissipating Qi in the surroundings, and treasures to assist the process. But even the best resources mean nothing without understanding."

Understanding.

Cheng’s mind turned back to what he had read before about Qi inscriptions, about arrays that could preserve and contain Qi. Could they help stabilize the process?

They could. But how could he get such?

His master would help, hopefully. But Cheng didn't want to just rely on master Liu. He wanted to figure things out on his own.

After all, it was master Liu who said that understanding by oneself was invaluable. Cryptic wording aside, Cheng would have to agree.

He shook his head and continued.

Once the liquid Qi was formed, it had to be fused into the body. Every drop that successfully merged would permanently reinforce the cultivator’s physical form, setting the foundation for all future growth. This was where talent, resources, and sheer willpower determined one’s success.

Some only formed a few drops. Their foundations were weak, and they would struggle to advance in the future. Others, through either superior methods or sheer perseverance, created dozens, even hundreds. These were the geniuses, the ones who would go on to shape the world.

The final lines on the page were written with heavier strokes, as if his master had pressed into the parchment more forcefully.

"A perfect foundation is a myth. But an unshakable one? That is possible. If you wish to step beyond mediocrity, do not merely accept what is given. Seek, adapt, and forge your own path."

Cheng slowly closed the book, his mind racing.

This was no cultivation manual. There were no step by step techniques, no diagrams of such. And yet, this book alone had already revealed more to him than all his time in the sect’s records. At least concerning the next realm.

Truly, having a master was like a cheat code.

He stared down at the cover, his fingers tracing its edges.

But his master had not simply given him a shortcut. He had given him knowledge. And knowledge was something no sect rule, no elder, and no price of contribution points could take away from him. At least if mind flaying techniques didn't exist, and Cheng's subconscious nudged with a sure feeling that they did.